


Call Me Cas

by Drarry_Scarred



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Jock Dean, M/M, Moving, Past Child Abuse, Punk Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarry_Scarred/pseuds/Drarry_Scarred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak and his younger brother, Gabriel, are outraged when their father tells them they're moving from New York City to small town America so he can find inspiration to write. Castiel's punk appearance and tendency to make rash decisions leads him to social ruin and makes him a target for some of the worst bullies in town. Haunted by his past and pushed into a corner by his present, Castiel finds solace in the unlikeliest of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first forays into writing fan fiction. It was actually a very spontaneous idea. I started it on a sleepless night, and it developed into this. Any feedback at all would be great! This work does not have a beta, so any mistakes are mine. I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, but it should be a decent length fic, at least with the ideas I have for it. The rating may rise, the father along I get in writing it. I'll try to come up with a posting schedule soon, it all depends on how easy it flows. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor do I claim to. No profit is made from this work. It is purely for fun.

Wind pounds relentlessly against the tall, metal structures that make up New York, as countless pedestrians hurry through the traffic clogged streets to get inside before the clouds open up. Litter scatters in the strong breeze, dancing lazily underneath fat, viscous gray clouds threatening to burst open and soak anything lucky enough to still be outside. Inside a spacious fifth story apartment, Chuck Novak sits his two sons down to tell them his big news, none of them aware or paying any attention to the brewing storm outside.

As the first tears fall from the overfilled clouds, Castiel Novak lunges to his feet, hands clenched in anger, his face filled with open shock and aggravation, practically yelling in his father’s face, “What do you mean we’re moving!?” Despite his hostile stance and the volume of the question, it comes out as more of a whine than anything. Chuck rolls his eyes, completely used to Castiel’s tendency to melodrama.

“Castiel, I know you like it here,” Chuck soothes. “But the city isn’t what I need right now. The deadline of my next book is approaching, and I need a change of scenery if I’m ever going to finish it.” He clasps his hands together, perching on the arm of the couch, and offers a small, conciliatory smile, “I’m sorry, son, but this isn’t up for debate.”

Castiel’s shoulders slump in defeat, knowing from the tone of his voice that nothing he can say will change his father’s mind. Sighing loudly for effect, Castiel mumbles, “Fine. Where are we going?”

Chuck brightens at this question, completely thrilled about his find, “It’s a small town called Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I bought a ranch on the outskirts of it...well, it used to be a ranch. The last owners completely overhauled it.”

Gabriel Novak, who had so far remained suspiciously quiet for the duration of their conversation, lunges to his feet at this, eyes wide with a mixture of horror and shock. “Daddy-o, nooooo!” He whines loudly, crossing his arms. “You can’t move us from New York City to a ranch! Have you met us?” His voice is rife with disbelief. “We are not small town folk. You seriously can’t be serious!” A look of horror dawns on his face, as he realizes what just left his mouth. “Your move is already killing my witty repartee.” He moans, flopping back down in an armchair, next to the couch he vacated, content to sulk now that he’s had his say.

Chuck leans his head back, eyes closed, praying for patience before turning back to his overdramatic sons, “Castiel, Gabriel, complaining isn’t going to change anything. I understand you like it here, but we’re moving, so get over it.” Chuck stands, heading out of the room, shaking his head slightly as he does. He doesn’t even pause as he calls over his shoulder, “I suggest you start packing! We leave in a week.” Outraged cries of, “A week?” and “You can’t be serious! We aren’t even going to finish the semester here?” follow him as he heads to the seclusion of his room, to write...or at least attempt to.

Castiel sighs, throwing himself down on the couch his younger brother vacated, “I can’t believe this! We’re moving to the middle of no where to live on a ranch. What’s happening to my life?” He muses aloud, his brother listening sympathetically. “I don’t know about you,” Castiel says as he stand and heads toward the door. “But I’m gonna go complain to my friends.” Gabriel jumps up and follows him out into the pouring rain.

 

******

Castiel, stares forlornly out the window, the sound of the car’s air conditioner blasting in one ear, fighting relentlessly to beat back the oppressive heat of the unseasonably warm day, while music blast from the headphone dangling out of the other. The lyrics of an Arctic Monkeys song doing nothing to soothe his mind like normal, as he watches the scenery change from rolling hills to oppressive trees. Images of Meg’s and Luci’s sad faces flash through his mind, making him sigh. He knows he’ll miss all his friends, but those two were his best friends. They’ve been thick as thieves since he’d moved to New York when he was ten. Now, seven years later, he’s leaving and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do without them. Castiel dozes off, lost in his thoughts, nostalgia tingeing the world around him.

“Guys! Wake up!” Chuck’s scratchy voice wakes Castiel and Gabriel two hours later. “We’re passing through the town.” Castiel rubs at his eyes, trying to wipe the sleep away. He stares out the window, mumbling a, “You have got to be kidding me,” under his breathe. Sioux Falls looks like the stereotypical, American small town. Small shops line each side of the street, street lamps positioned equal distances apart, a few people wandering about. He takes in the lack of traffic and the scenic views. It’s quaint, charming even, but Castiel decides he would take New York’s bustling streets over Sioux Falls quiet peace any day. Sighing, he doesn’t comment, just silently watches, making note how to get to their house.

About three minutes after exiting the center of town, Chuck turns off onto a dirt road, surrounded by empty plains of grass. Cows graze along the field off to the right, making him snort. “I traded starbucks for cows, God help me.” He murmurs just loud enough for Gabriel to hear, making him laugh. Chuck ignores the exchange, turning left onto another small tract of dirt road. After about thirty feet, they reach a large, black iron gate. Gabriel and Castiel exchange confused glances. They both know in theory, and from a little personal experience, that their Dad has a lot of money, and that he made quite a bit from his last novel, which made the New York Times’ Bestseller list; it even hit number one for a few days, but enough for a gated house? That’s just surreal.

Chuck pulls a small, black remote out of his pocket, pressing a button. They watch in silence as the gate slowly rolls open, revealing a long dirt drive leading up to a...well Castiel has a hard time not calling it a mansion. Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s huge. As in, it has three stories with numerous windows each, hinting at quite a few rooms. The white house is set off by mahogany shutters on every window, all left open, and a set of large mahogany doors at the top an impressive set of stairs. As they draw closer, Castiel squints at the doors and yes...yes they have honest-to-god knockers on them in the shape of...is that wings?

While Castiel, is stuck staring in awestruck silence at their new home, Gabriel manages to stutter out a quiet, “Dad, h-how many rooms does this place have?”

“Hmmh?” Chuck asks as he parks the car beside the grand entranceway, as Castiel has decided to start calling it in his mind. “Oh, I think the guy said it had ten. Not sure actually. I figured space and seclusion would help with my writing. You know the exact opposite of our New York apartment?” Without waiting for a response Chuck climbs out of the car to go speak with the drivers of the moving trucks that were following them.

The two brothers sit in silence before Gabriel finally breaks it, “Well, big bro, it looks like we’ll be pegged as the new rich kids. It’s gonna work wonders with the ladies!” he winks, and climbs out of the car to go explore, Castiel’s laughter ringing behind him. Castiel follows him out of the car stretching, his back arching gracefully, very much resembling a cat. He glances back at the large house, and smiles, “Well, at least this move has turned out interesting.” He whispers to himself, pulling out his phone. He quickly takes about twenty steps back in an attempt to get the whole house into the picture he’s taking. It barely fits, but it does. Castiel smiles in triumph. He quickly sends it to Meg and Luci with the caption, _Umm I think my Dad’s finally lost it...He bought a freaking mansion!_

He shoves his phone in the pocket of his skinny jeans, before heading towards the grand entranceway. He glances back at his Dad who yells after him and Gabriel, who’s currently lingering by the front door, “Boys, the third floors mine, but any room on the first or second you can have!”

They enter the house finding it’s just as extravagant on the inside as the outside. Stepping onto the hardwood floors, Castiel is almost surprised they're not marble, he stares around in quiet awe. Branching off on either side of him are two grand staircases, whose banisters meet at the top. Straight forward he can see all the way to the back of the house. The back wall seems to be mostly made up of giant windows. Between here and there, is an open concept living room and kitchen, with two hallways branching off in either direction.

Exchanging disbelieving looks, Castiel and Gabriel walk slowly up the staircase on their right.  After exploring the second floor, and thoroughly enjoying Gabriel grovelling, begging him to let him have the second floor to himself, since there was only three rooms that were all connected to each other, making it the, as he called it, ‘ultimate hangout’, Castiel heads down to the first floor. He wanders down the hallway on the left, which consists of two rooms, one on each side, both with their own bathrooms. He finds them both rather dull and lacking after seeing Gabriel’s new room...or should he say rooms?

The other hallway is longer, but still just having two rooms, though this time both are along the right side of it. He glances in both of them, finding them much the same as the ones in the other hallway when something at the end of the hall catches his eyes. He walks toward it finding an archway at the end of the hall to the left. A doorway is nestled snuggly in the nook the archway makes. He pulls it open and is confronted with three walls and a rustic metal staircase that spirals down.

“Cool,” he mumbles, walking down the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase is the house's basement, obviously turned into some kind of hangout or possibly a bedroom by the last owners. Smiling to himself, he knows this is his new room. Along the far wall is the perfect place for his entertainment center with room for couches and chairs around it. The wall on the right of the stairs has double doors that leads into a large walk-in closet. The wall to the left of the stairs has a door, that on closer look leads to a bathroom. At the end of this wall, there is a section of the room that’s raised up two steps, making the perfect platform for his bed. _I do_ _not envy the movers who have to bring that down here._ He thinks glancing at the spiral staircase behind him. But what really sealed the deal were all the empty bookcases down there, lining much of the spare wall space.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out laughing at Meg’s and Luci’s texts sent basically at the same time. Those two always manage to do things at exactly the same time, no matter how far away from each other they are.

**Meg:** _You have got to be kidding me, Clarence! You’re supposed to be miserable without us, but instead you get a freaking mansion! Unfair._

**Luci:** _Completely unfair! We’re coming to visit you over break. I don’t care how much you want to come to New York. I wanna see your mansion, man._

**Cas** : _And that’s not even the best part._

Cas quickly snaps pictures of the stairs and various other aspects of the room attaching them to his text. Not bothering to wait for their reply, he shoves his phone back in his pocket, and goes upstairs. After naming his claim on the basement to his Dad and Gabriel, so they can tell the movers where to put his stuff, he goes in search of Darling, hollering back at his Dad that he’s going to take her to explore the town. Darling is his motorcycle, which he finds parked next to Gabriel’s car. Why does a freshman have a car? Well, their Dad has the tendency to be a pushover, and Gabriel can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Anyway, he started calling her Darling when he realized how cliche Baby sounded. He smiles, climbing onto her not bothering with a helmet.

Before he can even start her though, his Dad comes running out of the house. “Hey, Castiel!” He calls to get his attention, his hand held out in front of him, “Here’s your remote to the gate and key to the house. Don’t lose them.” Castiel takes them smiling and shoves them into the pocket of his hoodie.

He pulls his phone out, plugging his headphones in, and turning on his favorite spotify playlist, before heading towards town. It’s so nice to be back on his motorcycle, but it’s weird. He’s used to weaving in and out of traffic and avoiding stupid pedestrians, not dirt roads, solitude, and uncrowded streets. Once in town, he sees a coffee shop that looks promising off to his left and pulls into a space in front of it, turning Darling off, and pulling out his phone, smiling at Meg’s and Luci’s raving replies to his pictures.

He pretends not to notice the stares of the towns inhabitants. Store owners are literally peaking out their windows at him. _How did I end up in the most stereotypical small town there is?_ He wonders to himself as he notices every teenager inside the coffee shop pause in their conversations to stare at him before furiously whispering to each other. _Well, I guess I can’t blame them._ He thinks as he glances down at his appearance.

He’s not exactly small town material. He has on skin tight faded blue skinny jeans with various frayed holes down their front. They’re tucked into black beat up combat boots that reach mid-calf. His clingy black T-shirt with a band logo splayed across the front, is worn under a black zip-up hoodie with a gray hood. Then there's his messy bed head black hair and startling blue gaze surrounded in rings of black eyeliner to take into account. And did he mention his piercings? When you add in the tongue ring, snake bites, and right eyebrow piercings, you’re going to get gawked at in the most stereotypical small town in existence.

He pauses his music, and pulls the headphones out shoving them in his pocket. A smirk crosses his face, as he continues to text, comfortably seated on his bike. _Just wait until they see my tattoos_ , he thinks, as he sends off another text to Luci and Meg about the curious townsfolk. He currently has a large pair of intricate, black wings on his back. Cliche maybe, but it’s in memory of his mom, who used to call him _her little angel_. Obviously the gawkers won’t ever see those or the Enochian words of protection across his right ribs, but they will eventually see his sleeve of black tattoos on his right arm. Plus the word, _Cassie_ , in elegant script on his inner wrist. No, it’s not a girls name. It’s what his sister, Anna, used to call him. She was the only one he ever allowed to call him that. His last tattoo is higher up on his left arm, just below the inner elbow. It’s a cross made of metal and flames, with _The Fallen_ written beneath it. Him, Luci, and Meg got matching ones, as a symbol of their friendship. It’s a play on how they always make fun of Luci since his parents named him Lucifer because of their very messed up religious beliefs.

Smiling at the memory of his friends, Castiel decides to give the townspeople a real shock and maybe some new gossip fodder, so he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up, revealing his tattoos, knowing Meg and Luci will love hearing this story later. Acting like he doesn’t notice the very obvious stares coming from all directions, _small town America, you gotta love it!,_ he casually shoves his phone in his pocket and heads towards the little cafe. The people inside basically go into an all out frenzy of whispering, only to fall silent the moment he opens the door. Castiel forces himself not to burst out laughing at them and walks to the counter, casting a charming smile at the girl behind it. “How can I help you?” She says, her voice conveying her interest in him. He refuses to roll his eyes at that. Its not her fault that she’s falling into _his_ stereotyping of the town.

The coffee shop is eerily quiet, as if they’re all holding their breath to hear his response. _Wow, the first day of school is going to be awkward...or interesting...probably just annoying though…_ Breaking off his inner monologue, Castiel smiles, “I’d like a grande soy green tea frappuccino extra whip,” He says with a smile, noting the shock on her face and those around him. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, he continues hesitantly, “If you have it…?”

She blinks at him for a moment before seeming to shake herself out of the surprise, “Oh! No, I can make that...it’s just...unusual for around here.” He smiles knowingly, not at all surprised. While she’s making his drink, the conversation around them still little to nonexistent, she turns to talk to him. She doesn’t seem to notice the prying ears, or maybe she’s just used to it, who knows? “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” At the nod of his head, she continues, “What’s your name?”

“Castiel, Castiel Novak. I moved here from New York City,” he offers her, deciding to ignore the people around him.

“Oh! Really!?” She exclaims excitement lighting up her blue eyes. “I’ve always wanted to go there! Why’d you move here then? If you don’t mind me asking; I mean it’s a really big change, right?”

“You have no idea,” he smiles, laughing. “And no, I don’t mind. My dad’s an author. He wanted a change of scenery for inspiration, and decided a small town would do. He bought that ranch, over on Spring Lane Road.” Her eyes widen at that, obviously knowing which ranch he’s talking about.

“He’s a writer?” She questions after a moment of staring at him almost as if she’s sizing him up. “What’s his name? Think I’ve read anything by him?”

“It’s possible, but he writes under a pen name and would be pissed if I gave out the fact that it’s him.” He smiles consolingly. She nods her head in understanding, before handing him his coffee and telling him the price. He pays in cash, telling her it was nice to meet her, and heading to go explore more of the town. Secretly, he just wants to escape the coffee shop’s prying eyes. Three girls step in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. One girl is tall with fiery red hair and a shirt that proclaims _The Devil Made Me Do It_. She’s flanked by a short blonde, with a creepy smile on her face, and a slightly taller dark haired girl, who almost seems predatory.

“I’m Abby,” The red haired girl declares proudly, before motioning towards the other two, “And this is Ruby,” the dark haired girl, “And Lilith,” the blonde.

Castiel sips his coffee, before murmuring, “Nice to meet you. I’m Castiel,” and starting to walk around them. But before he can take more than a step, a long-fingered pale hand with perfectly manicured nails, presses into the center of his chest, forcing him to stop. He stares down at it for a moment, before stepping back out of its reach, eyebrows raised in inquiry at its owner.

“I was just wondering if you’d like me to...show you around, Castiel,” her voice is laced with suggestion.

Castiel stares at her silently for a minute before making a split-second decision, “I’m gay.” He deadpans. She blinks at him slowly, her face freezing in shock. In an overly cheerful voice, Castiel goes on, “But thanks for the offer.” He walks past her, every eye in the room on him, “Nice to meet you!” he calls cheerfully over his shoulder, as the door shuts softly behind him.

**TBC...**


	2. Twists of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!  
> Thanks for all the Kudos; they were a pleasant surprise :) Any feedback at all is great!
> 
> Warning: This chapter does have bullying and homophobic slurs but not many.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor do I claim to. I make no money off this work. It's purely for fun.

Castiel flinches slightly at the sound of door shutting softly behind him. He’s panicking on the inside. How could he have just outed himself to the whole town like that? He slowly starts walking down the street, trying to look calm and collected under the watchful eyes of the town, but inside he’s a mess of conflicting emotions: Excitement, from the encounter. Amusement, at the looks on their faces. Fear, of how the school will react. But most of all, cold, hard panic. What if the town is homophobic? Everything else about it seems stereotypical about this town. Why wouldn’t it be prejudiced to boot?

Castiel stops abruptly in front of an antiques store called ‘Old to New,’ examining their display window, as he tries to collect his thoughts. Pretending to look at the antiques, he can feel eyes on him from every direction of town. Shop owners are still peering out their windows, trying to get a glimpse of the new kid. Maybe they think they’re stealthy, or maybe they just don’t care, but either way, they’re pretty obvious about it. Leaning closer to the window to examine an old typewriter propped up on shaggy, blue carpet, Castiel comes to a decision. He doesn’t care what the town thinks. He was out when he was living in New York. Sure, he got a lot of shit for it, but he survived the big town idiots. He can survive small town bigots, too. Smiling to himself, he starts his walk down the street again. This time, looking for a store worth going in.

After a few minutes of wandering and sipping his coffee, he spots a shop across the street, painted in neon colors, with grimey windows, and a sign declaring it ‘The Sweet Shop,’ _OPEN_. Making a beeline across the street, as he draws closer, he can see it’s actually a thrift shop, filled to the brim with vintage things. “Awesome,” he murmurs.

Pushing the door open, an automated bell clangs loudly above his head. Lounging behind a counter, a guy about his age, with a...is that a mullet?...glances up at him. “Hey, man! I’ve never seen you around before. New to town?”

Castiel nods, walking up to the counter, “Just moved here from New York. I’m Castiel.” He says, offering his hand.

The guys smiles broadly, shaking the proffered hand, “That’s cool, man! I’m Ash. It’s nice to see some new faces around here.”

Castiel smiles, “Well, I’m going to go look around. Maybe I’ll see you at school?”

“Sure, sure, man! Of course.” Offering another broad smile, Ash turns back to the magazine he was reading when Castiel walked in. Taking that as a dismissal, Castiel wanders farther into the surprisingly large store. He browses the clothing for awhile, but quickly decides designer clothes are more his style than thrift store clothes. What can he say? He’s slightly conceited, and likes quality clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a neon blue crate overflowing with records, some even lying haphazardously on the floor around it. Almost cheering at his find, Castiel practically runs over to them in his excitement.

After about ten minutes of flipping through and examining records, Castiel hears the bell on the door chime. His breathe stops when in walks a tanned Adonis. The boy has hair so light it’s almost blonde, with startling green eyes, that he can clearly see from the back of the store. The guy is obviously fit, probably a jock, and has a large smile on his face, crinkling his eyes, making them shine brightly with inner joy.

“Dean!” he hears Ash call out in excitement. “What are you doing here, man? I thought you had football practice.” Castiel angles himself so, if they turn around, it doesn’t look like he’s watching them.

Dean’s deep voice makes Castiel’s stomach flutter, in the most unmanly way possible. If he wasn’t so absorbed by what the man before him was saying, he might even be embarrassed. “Nah, Ash. That’s tomorrow. I swear you may be a genius, but you can’t remember anything for shit.” Ash laughs loudly, Dean joining in with a deep, full-throated laugh, that sends a chill down Castiel’s spin. “Besides, I’m just waiting for Charlie. We were gonna go the next town over and catch a movie. Thought I’d look around while I wait.” As he talks he begins to walk towards the back of the store, forcing Castiel to actually look at the record he’s holding in his hand.

 _Charlie? Is that a boy or a girl?...Doesn’t matter, either way he’s taken._ A wave of disappointment courses through Castiel. He shrugs it off quickly though, reminding himself he’s never even talked to the guy before. Focusing on the records again, he attempts to ignore the guy...Dean, he reminds himself, as he wanders around. Dean doesn’t seem to notice his presence or maybe he just doesn’t care, either way Castiel isn’t going to acknowledge him first.

This goes on for another five minutes: Castiel tense and pretending not to be, and Dean obliviously looking around, not noticing or acknowledging Castiel. When the bell above the door rings, causing Castiel to jump, and omitting a girl in a faded Star Trek shirt and converses. “Yo! What’s up, bitches?” She calls.

Ash murmurs a, “Hey, Charlie,” Completely absorbed in his magazine and unfazed by her dramatic entrance. Castiel smiles down at the record he’s holding, trying not to show his amusement, as Dean bounds to her, like a puppy, pulling her into a hug. “Hey, Charlie!” He says with twice the enthusiasm as Ash. A pang of jealously shoots through Castiel, but he stifles it before it can grow. _You don’t know the guy!_ He reminds himself.

While he’s having his internal debate, Castiel manages to multitask and eavesdrop on Charlie and Dean’s conversation. Dean pulls back from the hug, “Are you ready? Movie starts soon.”

“I actually wanted to look around a bit. Why don’t you go get us some coffees from that place down the street, and meet me in ten at the Impala?” She smiles winningly at him, and he nods his head in agreement before turning to leave, without asking her what kind of coffee she wants, which means he knows, which means they have been together for a while. Sighing, Castiel focuses on the record in his hand, deeming Dean a lost cause.

He’s just getting back into looking at the records, when a voice interrupts him. “Hey, are you the guy my dad sold the Louis’ ranch to? Well, I guess it would be your parents who bought it.” He glances up and sees Charlie standing before him.

Furrowing his brow in thought, Castiel tilts his head to the side as he thinks, “I don’t think my dad mentioned who owned the ranch before us, but I’d assume its the same one.” He smiles down at her, “I’m Castiel,”

“Charlie,” she says offering her hand.

He shakes it, “Yeah, I know...I heard you and your boyfriend talking.”

A confused look crosses her face, before she bursts into laughter, clutching her sides and wheezing, she manages to gasp out, “B-b-boy-boyfri…” Before another wave of laughter washes over her. Castiel stares down at her in confusion. She finally, collects herself enough to talk, wiping tears from her eyes, “Oh my god! I’m sorry, but me and Dean? Just no. He’s way too Dean...ish. Besides, even if he wasn’t so Dean-y, he’d still have the wrong parts. I’m gay.

“Oh…” Castiel mumbles, lost in thoughts of this new revelation. So Dean is single, but does he swing the same way as him? Castiel’s silence, must have came across wrong to Charlie, since she had just declared the fact that she liked the same sex; because all of a sudden, he had an angry redhead in his face, saying, “Do you have a problem with me being gay?” She demands it in a voice that says she’s used to people not accepting her, with her arms crossed, while glaring at him.

Castiel snaps out of his thoughts, “What? That’s absurd! I’m gay, too...I was just thinking…” He trails off shifting uncomfortably not wanting to tell her what he was thinking about, but by the sly look that crosses her face, she seems to have figured it out. She seems pretty intuitive.

“Well, Castiel, I’m late to meet Dean, but I’ll see you around school, okay?” He nods, slightly uncomfortable because of what she may know and slightly intrigued by the girl in general.

“Yeah, see ya around,” He murmurs. Charlie doesn’t respond but throws up the live long and prosper sign over her shoulder as she exits the shop. Laughing, Castiel grabs a couple of the records he’d picked out earlier and decides to head home to unpack, already tired of the prying eyes and nosy people. Sure, they weren’t all bad, but he could already tell that school Monday, would be Hell.

******

A few hours later, Castiel collapses onto his bed, completely fed up with unpacking. When he got home, all his furniture had somehow made it down the spiral staircase...those poor movers...and put in relatively the right places. He had jumped right in, moving the furniture exactly where he wanted it. Then he had the boxes to tackle. He managed to find his bedding and clothes and get that all unpacked and fixed up, as well as everything needed in his bathroom, but after spending an hour filling bookshelves with books, and still not making it even halfway through them, he had finally given up. Laying in his new room, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, Castiel smiles, suddenly feeling very optimistic about this move.

Feeling a little bit lame, laying on his bed and smiling at the ceiling, he pulls out his cell phone. Meg and Luci had both texted while he was unpacking.

 **Meg:** _Clarence, I never thought I’d say this, but I miss you. We’re on The Edge, and it sucks without you :(_

 **Luci:** _Your absence is depressing Meg and it’s weird, man, but she’s right The Edge isn’t the same without you!_

Castiel stares at his phone, his heart heavy. The Edge is what they called the rooftop of an old, abandoned factory by the water, that they’ve hung out on since they were thirteen. They came up with the nickname, when they saw the words, _I’ll fall off the edge with you_ , under a heart with a couples name in it. It’s still carved there on the wall they sit on, with feet dangling off the side, the most often.

 **Cas:** _I wish I could be on The Edge with you guys, too. Nothings the same here. I’ve been gawked at by everyone, and I haven’t met one person with the same fashion sense as me._

 **Meg:** _Focused on fashion, are you Clairey? Could you be anymore, gay?_

 **Luci:** _Anyone worthing gawking back at? ;)_

 **Cas:** _Meg, you don’t deem a response, and yes but he’s probably straight. Very jockish, but an Adonis nonetheless._

 **Meg** : _Ooohhh! An adonis, sounds like my kind of guy, if he does turn out straight don’t hesitate to send him my way!_

 **Luci** : _A jock? Seriously man? Come on! Is there no one from our crowd there?_

“Castiel!” Chuck’s voice calls down the stairs, “Dinner’s ready! Come eat.”

 **Cas:** _Whatever, guys! I’ve gotta go, I’ll call you tonight and tell you about what happened in town. Trust me, you wanna know how I outed myself. Buh-bye!_

Without waiting for a response Castiel tosses his phone onto his bed, and heads upstairs, starving after all the heavy lifting. What? Books are heavy. Upstairs he finds a sweaty Gabriel chugging water, and his Dad at the counter, dishing out homemade lasagna onto plates. He paused, not sure which sight was more disturbing. “Ummm...guys what’s going on? Why are you all sweaty? And since when do you cook, Dad? This isn’t like one of those new house, new me things, is it? Because that’s just weird…” He trails off staring at them in inquiry.

Gabriel crushes the bottle he just emptied of water, throwing it at the trashcan and missing. Cursing under his breath, he goes to retrieve it, “I went for a run.”

“You run?” Castiel asks, disbelief dripping from his voice.

“No, that’s why I’m sweaty and chugging water,” Gabriel’s voice declares, duh, in every word.

Before Castiel can respond and start bickering with his brother, Chuck intervenes, “And I did not cook this. Mr. Bradbury brought it over, as a Welcome-To-Town-Present.”

“Mr. Who?” Gabriel questions.

“The realtor I bought the house from.”

“Ohh…” Castiel says, “I met his daughter today, at some thrift shop in town. She seemed cool enough.”

The conversation was moved to the table as they ate, dissolving into idle chit chat and comments about the new house. Castiel found out that he was to start at Sioux Falls High: Home of the Buffalo, tomorrow. He couldn’t decide how he felt about that. On one hand he might see Dean, Charlie, or Ash, _but_ on the other there would be more prying eyes and listening ears, than he’d like to deal with in one lifetime.

After a pleasant evening with his family, Castiel goes downstairs and calls his two best friends. Laughing and joking about his experiences in the new town today and listening to anecdotes about their lives, they end up talking for hours. Until finally, Castiel hangs up and lies down, attempting to fall asleep in his new room, in a new house, with his new life hanging over him...tossing and turning, Castiel is well aware, that it’s going to be a sleepless night.

******

The next morning finds Castiel and Gabriel facing off outside: arms crossed, jaws set stubbornly, neither willing to give into the other. Birds chirp loudly...and annoyingly around them. The morning sun shining brightly down, as a cool, early-Autumn breeze fluffs up Castiel’s, already, messy hair.

Gabriel breaks the silence, “I’m not doing it,” he says, glaring stubbornly at his older brother.

Castiel rolls his eyes, “And I don’t particularly care. Go wake Dad, walk, freaking hitchhike there for all I care, but I’m leaving, so decide now.”

A sullen pout shapes Gabriel’s face, “How can you do this to me?” he whines, in true Gabriel fashion.

“I’m not doing anything to you.” Castiel replies, unaffectedly.

“Why can’t you just drive my car?” He pleads.

“When you’re old enough to drive, you can take your car. I’m not changing my mind, so get on or find your own way.”

“Fine!” Gabriel yells, throwing his hands in the air and glaring at the smug smirk on Castiel’s face. Swinging his leg over the motorcycle, Gabriel grumbles loudly, “Stupid, Castiel. Ruining my stupid reputation before it even starts.” He crosses his arms, sullenly glaring straight ahead refusing to look at Castiel, as he continues to grumble, “Going to school on the back of my brother’s stupid motorcycle, like some damsel he gave a ride to. Stupid freaking motorcycle.”

“Hey!” Castiel interrupts, in mock anger, “You can insult me all you want, but don’t take it out on Darling!” He says, climbing on in front of his brother. “It’s okay, Darling. He doesn’t mean it.” Gabriel glares at the back of his head, refusing to hold his waist, keeping his arms firmly crossed. Castiel looks over his shoulder, and smirks at the sight of his brother pouting. “You might want to hold on,” he says, gassing it, causing Gabriel to flail his arms ungracefully and grab Castiel’s waist to avoid falling off.  

Laughing at his brother’s misfortune, as Gabriel curses in his ear, the Novaks set off for their first day of school at Sioux Falls High.

Driving through the sleepy streets of Sioux Falls, just waking up for the day, leaves Castiel feeling nostalgic for New York and its bustling chaos. It doesn’t take them long to reach the high school. Gabriel practically lunges off the motorcycle the second it stops, smoothing his clothes and hair frantically as he glares at Castiel who slowly climbs off, smirking at his brother in amusement. “You so owe me for this, big brother,” Gabriel declares.

Castiel snorts, “I don’t owe you anything. I did you favor!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, ignoring whatever his brother replies, as they head to the front entrance of the school. Walking into school is completely nerve wracking, so Castiel focuses on his phone. He’s on his absolute favorite blog on Tumblr, The-Moon-Locked-Away. It’s run by this girl, named Sarah. She posts about the best music and pretty much every fandom or ship he likes, but even her blog, doesn’t completely distract him from how out of place he feels.

Gabriel and him don’t even look like they fit in. Castiel is wearing black skinny jeans, combat boots, and tight pale blue, long-sleeved shirt, with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, revealing his tattoos. A messenger bag is draped over his shoulder. Gabriel on the other hand, looks more tame than him since he doesn’t have eyeliner, tattoos, or piercings, but his clothes are still designer. Sure, this town isn’t filled to the brim with plaid, cowboy-boot wearing teenagers, but no one else is dressed quite like them.

Stepping through the front doors, Castiel glances up from his phone to make sure Gabriel is leading him to the office and not wandering around aimlessly while he follows. Before he glances back down though, something out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. A girl goes sprawling across the floor, the book she was caring sliding away from her. He turns toward her to see she didn’t just fall, but a red-haired girl had shoved her. The same red-haired girl from the coffee shop, Abby. She’s flanked on either side by guys: One guy has pale blue eyes, so light they’re almost white and a sadistic smile. Another has brown eyes that border on yellow, with a smug grin plastered across his rather unattractive face. The last guy has chocolate brown skin, is extremely large, and is currently spewing venom at the girl sprawled on the ground.

“...ugly, fat bitch!” Castiel hears him say. Anger flows hot and fast through his veins, and he shoves his phone and bag at Gabriel, who barely catches them, before marching toward the quartet currently spewing nasty things, such as, “Ugly pig,” and “Nerdy, little bitch.”

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” Castiel yells, furiously at them, Gabriel following a few paces behind.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” purs Abby. “A scrawny. Little. Faggot.” Castiel glares at her, ignoring the exclamations from the guys behind her of, “This the guy from the cafe?” and “Wait, this is the new guy?”

Castiel turns towards the girl still sitting miserably on the floor. He holds his hand out to her, and she takes it hesitantly, allowing him to drag her to her feet. She’s really short, only about 5’2”, but she’s far from fat, as the bullies had spewed so hatefully. She actually has a very attractive shape, very curvy, and oddly enough she looks familiar. Scrunching his eyebrows together, he takes in her black curls, blue eyes, and slightly upturned nose, with an odd sense of deja vu. “Are you okay?” he asks her quietly.

She smiles up at him, “Yes, thanks for your help.” Her voice is pleasant, like bells chiming in the wind. Gabriel walks up, handing her her dropped book. Castiel smiles at her, but before he can respond, the guy with the light blue eyes, grabs his shoulder yanking him around to face the quartet of dicks.

“Thanks, for ruining our fun, faggot.” He hisses in Castiel’s face. His voice is like nails on a scratch board and has Castiel flinching away. His voice matches his smile perfectly, completely sadistic.

Castiel jerks his shoulder out of his grip, “Lay another hand on her or say one more negative thing in her direction, and you’ll be dealing with _me,_ " Castiel says, voice low and threatening, making sure to make eye contact with each member of the quartet, as he speaks.

They burst out into simultaneous laughter, before the guys with yellow eyes steps forward, cracking his knuckles, “And what exactly will _you_ do about it? Its not like this fat bitch didn’t ask for it, you know...by existing.”

Without thinking twice, Castiel swings, his fist connecting with the guys nose, which promptly explodes in a spray of blood. White eyes starts to move towards him when a loud voice freezes him in his place.

“Alastair, Azazel! What is going on here?” Castiel turns to see a man in a designer suit moving towards them. “And who are you?” he asks taking in Castiel standing in front of the girl and his brother in a protective stance.

“I’m Castiel Novak. I just moved here from New York.” He says, hesitantly, unsure of who he’s speaking to.

“And I’m your new Principal, Principal Dick Roman. Now would you mind explaining why you felt the urge to harm Azazel here within…” He glances at his watch, “Oh, five minutes of being in this school.”

“This is not exactly the first impression I wanted to make,” Castiel responds, “But I wasn’t going to stand by and watch them,” He motions to the quartet standing awkwardly behind the principal, “bully her.” He says crooking his thumb behind his shoulder at the short black-haired girl.

“Ahhh...I see.” Principal Roman says, “Well, they’ll be thoroughly chastised for this.” He turns toward the four bullies, “Run along please.” Turning back to Castiel, he says, “Please, refrain from violence at my school.” Then without another glance, he walks away.

“Well, that was...uncomfortable,” Gabriel says, drawing the attention of Castiel and the girl. “Is it just me, or is Principal Roman kinda...creepy?”

“Yeah, he really is.” Castiel agrees, before turning towards the girl, “Hey, I’m Castiel and this is my younger brother, Gabriel. Sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.” He holds out his hand for the girl to shake.

She smiles at him, taking his hand, “It’s great to meet you both,” She says sincerely, “Thanks for saving me. I guess you’re kinda my knight in shining armor,” She jokes, making both boys laugh. “Oh, and I’m Sarah Moon.” Castiel’s mouth drops open in a small ‘o.’ Everything clicked into place so fast he couldn’t hide his reaction. She’s The-Moon-Locked-Away. That’s why she looked familiar earlier. Because of the rare selfie she’d post on her blog.

“Omigod! I love your blog!” Castiel completely fangirls, making Gabriel laugh and her eyes widen in surprise. He pauses the tirade of praise that’s about to spew from his mouth, clearing his throat, and in a much manlier voice says, “Umm...yeah, it’s great.”

She bursts out in laughter at this, “You’re the first fan I’ve met, so I’m not sure what to say.” She smiles broadly, “What’s your blog? Maybe I’ve seen it.”

Castiel laughs nervously, “Umm...I doubt it, but its An-Angel-With-Broken-Wings.”

Her eyes get comically wide, “That’s my favorite blog!” She says, gripping his arm tightly in excitement.

Before they can start fangirling again, Gabriel interrupts, “Ummm...guys. Sorry to break up this awesome twist of fate and all, but we need to find the office and our schedules before school starts.”

“Right,” Castiel says, “Right...ummm, can you show us where it is?” **  
**

Sarah smiles, “Sure.” **  
**

Castiel sweeps his arm out, in a grand gesture, “Lead the way, m’lady.” ****

She laughs and leads. They follow.

 

TBC...


	3. An Arts and English Kind of Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated. Sorry about that! I hope it was worth the wait! Thanks for all the Kudos! I love any feedback :)
> 
> Warning: A few homophobic slurs
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, nor do I claim to. I make no profit off this work. It is purely for fun.

Sunlight slants idly through the row of windows, bringing into view dust motes that dance merrily in the still air of the classroom. Outside, a soft breeze picks up browning Autumnal leaves, sending them flying through the air, only to fall gently back to the ground again. Castiel stares listlessly, watching their aimless dance, tapping his pencil sharply against the desk he currently occupies. The rest of the class is absorbed in their work or pretending to be, at least. It’s thirty minutes until lunch, and most of the students shift restlessly, shooting glances at the clock on the wall, willing it to tick faster. **  
**

His first day of school, has been rather uneventful so far. Well, if you leave out the altercation with Abby and her cronies. Sarah had shown them the way to the office where they were given their schedules from the friendly school clerk, Mrs. _Call-Me-Missouri_ Moseley. Castiel had ended up being late to first period English with Mr. Oliver, and had had to stand in front of the class awkwardly answering questions about his life, while fending off questions about his dad being an author, not wanting to accidently give out his identity. Mr. Oliver had taken a startling amount of convincing to let it drop, but he had eventually acquiesced and allowed Castiel to take his seat. **  
**

None of his other teachers had had him introduce himself. Probably because he wasn’t late to their classes, so he was already seated by the time they noticed him. So far, he’d had three classes with Sarah, and had met her best friends, who included Charlie from the thrift store. They all seemed really cool, but he’d hit it off especially well with Sarah. He had a feeling that she was going to be a Sioux Falls version of Meg and Luci to him. Luckily, none of those classes had Abby or her band of bullies in them, so nothing untoward had been said to him...yet. **  
**

Now, he sat in fourth period Math with Mrs. Rosier, who had lectured them for twenty minutes before giving them a worksheet and promptly began ignoring them for her laptop. Since he hated math, this didn’t exactly bother him, but he didn’t know anyone in this class, and no one seemed inclined to talk to him or even introduce themselves, so he was bored out of his mind. The only plus was that this class was also void of Abby and her friends, but since it didn’t have Sarah or any of her friends, it still seemed pretty dull. **  
**

So staring out the window, daydreaming, and wondering how he’s going to pass this class since he has no clue what’s written on this worksheet, it seemed would be how he’d pass the next twenty minutes. Maybe he’d doodle. Sighing, Castiel looked at his worksheet again, trying to decipher what he was supposed to do with the numbers and symbols and letters...and math really was invented by the devil. **  
**

Giving up, Castiel began to draw random designs in the margins of his notebook. He was just starting to add shading to the doodles, to make them more complex, when the classroom door banged open. The noise startled him into snapping his head up along with the rest of the class. **  
**

They were greeted by the sight of a flushed cheek, slightly flustered looking Dean Winchester, holding out a late slip to the teacher as a peace offering, “Sorry,” he says, his voice sending a shiver down Castiel’s spine, “I had to stay in my last class to finish a test I missed last week.” He smiles charmingly, at the bored-looking Mrs. Rosier. **  
**

She takes the proffered slip without much fanfare besides a, “Please, take your seat.” Dean nods quickly, before glancing at the class, eyes going straight to Castiel. Surprise flashes across his face for a moment, before being replaced with recognition. Castiel looks away, wondering if he remembers him from the thrift store, and begins working on his drawing again. **  
**

“Mind if I sit by you?” Castiel jumps, pencil falling to the floor, startled by Dean’s voice right next to him. “Whoa...didn’t mean to scare you.” Dean says, handing him his fallen pencil. **  
**

Castiel looks up into the overwhelmingly green eyes, “Thank you and uhh…no it’s fine, but don’t you want to sit with your friends?” Castiel asks, glancing at the rest of the class who seem completely unconcerned with Dean Winchester talking to the new kid, which is strange considering all of his other classes had gawked at his presence as if he was declaring he was an angel of the Lord sent to stop the apocalypse, instead of the new kid from New York. **  
**

“Well, I don’t really hang out with anyone in here,” Dean says, dismissing his question. “Are you the guy from New York Charlie was talking about?” Dean asks. **  
**

So, he doesn’t remember him from the thrift store. “Yeah, I’m Castiel.” **  
**

“Dean,” he says, smiling. Castiel returns the smile, trying to ignore the feeling blossoming in his chest at having Dean’s smile aimed at him. He turns back to his notebook, so Dean won’t see his thoughts plastered in the expression on his face. **  
**

After a few moments of silence, Castiel glances at Dean, to find him steadily working through his assignment, already halfway through the worksheet. “You actually understand this?” Castiel asks, shocked that anyone could actually decipher it. **  
**

Dean looks up with an expression of mock hurt, “Well, I’m scandalized. Did you actually take me for just another dumb jock?” He presses his palm over his heart as he talks, before mock pouting. **  
**

Castiel glares at him, but can only keep it up for a second before he breaks and laughs. “Hey, shut it! I have absolutely no clue what’s written on this worksheet.” **  
**

“Math not your subject, Cas?” Dean asks. **  
**

Castiel raises an eyebrow, “No, not really. I’m more of an arts and English kind of guy, but what did you just call me?” **  
**

Dean looks at him confused before blushing slightly, “Umm...Cas. I mean it’s just a nickname. I do that...Give people nicknames, I mean. Like my little brother; I call him Sammy. He hates it, but I still do…But I mean if you don’t want me to call you Cas, I won’t. It’s just your names kind of a mouthful, so I just thought--” **  
**

“Dean,” Castiel cuts off his flustered rambling, causing him to blush again, “It’s okay. It’s just I’ve never been called that before...I actually kind of like it,” He muses. “Yeah. You can call me Cas.” **  
**

Dean, having recovered from his earlier bout of nervousness, smiles, his eyes lighting up with it, “Now that that’s out of the way,” he jokes, “How about I help you with that math?” **  
**

Castiel smiles, “Sure, thanks.” **  
**

“No problem, Cas. That’s what friends are for.” A warm feeling erupts inside Castiel, and he tries to hide the sappy smile that crosses his face at those word, not entirely sure if he succeeded. He’s elated as Dean begins to explain how to work through the problems. Dean’s his friend, and he now has a nickname. He’s not sure if he wants everyone calling him Cas, but Dean can call him Cas anyday.

******

“I heard you sat with Dean Winchester last period,” Sarah says, as they walk into the noisy, overcrowded cafeteria, joining the line of students waiting to get their trays. **  
**

Castiel looks at her, eyebrows raised, seriously astonished at the sentence that just came out of her mouth, “How did you hear that? I literally left that class two minutes ago, and you met me at the door!” He exclaims, disbelief tingeing his voice **  
**

“Oh, right. You don’t know.” She laughs, placing what she wants on her tray. **  
**

“Don’t know what?” Castile asks, perplexed, as he tries to figure out what’s edible and what isn’t. School food. Gross. 

“That class is filled with the worse gossipers in our whole school. Like every single one of them...well, except Dean, which is why he doesn’t hang out with anyone in there.” Castiel gives her an odd look since her words echoed Dean’s earlier ones. “And yes, I know he said that...Cas, the arts and English kind of guy.” She adds, winking. **  
**

He stares at her slightly horrified by that revelation. “So, they seriously told everyone our whole conversation...word for word?” he asks. **  
**

She puts her hand on his shoulder, looking up with pity written clearly on her face, “Yeah, pretty much. They texted their friends. There’s a guy in my last class, which was Drama, and he was getting one of the girl’s texts from in there, and he read them out to our class, so we like listened to your conversation, which felt pretty stalkerish, but what are you gonna do?” She asks rhetorically, shrugging. **  
**

Castiel stares down at her, seriously disturbed, “And they were the only class not staring at me like I had a horn protruding from my forehead…” He says, shaking his head slightly. **  
**

She laughs, “It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.” **  
**

“Ain’t that the truth,” he mutters under his breath. **  
**

By this point, they had paid for their trays, and were heading outside to the courtyard, to sit with Sarah’s friends, who he guesses are his friends now. He smiles in greeting at Charlie, Garth, and Kevin. They return it as him and Sarah sit down at the picnic table they occupy. “So, I heard you and Dean hit it off last period.” Charlie says. **  
**

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Castiel says sarcastically, making her laugh. “How come he’s not hanging out with you? I thought you guys were best friends or whatever,” Castiel asks curiously. **  
**

“Oh, well, we are. It’s just he’s a jock, so he eats lunch with the jocks.” **  
**

Castiel stares at her for a moment, blinking slowly, “This is the most stereotypical town in existence.” He comments in complete disbelief. **  
**

“Says the guy who looks like the epitome of stereotypical teenage rebellion.” She snarks back. **  
**

“Hey!” Castiel exclaims, “This,” he says waving a hand at himself, “Is not rebellion. My dad doesn’t care if I have tattoos and piercings. Hell, he paid for half of it. I just happen to like it.” **  
**

Charlie raises her eyebrows at that, “Uh huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that.” **  
**

“Are you saying you don’t like it?” He asks, pouting at her with widened eyes. **  
**

“Naahh...you’re adorable.” She says sarcastically, patting his forearm consolingly. **  
**

“Now back on topic, why don’t you guys just sit with Dean and his jock friends, too?” **  
**

Charlie shifts uncomfortably, “If I tell you, then you’ll just call us stereotypical again.” **  
**

Castiel laughs, “What? Are they jerks?” **  
**

Kevin butts into the conversation, “Adam and Zach are.” **  
**

“But Benny and Ash are cool.” Garth adds. **  
**

“And Jo’s pretty nice.” Sarah comments, “Though I don’t know if cheerleader counts as jock, but she sits with them nonetheless.” **  
**

Castiel takes this in, trying to keep all the new names straight, “So if this is a stereotypical high school, then I should watch out for Adam and Zach, since I’m stereotypical bully material, right?” **  
**

“Pretty much.” All four of them say together. **  
**

“Great, that makes a grand total of nine bullies to watch out for.” Castiel sighs, taking another bite of his sandwich. **  
**

“Who are the other seven?” Kevin asks. **  
**

“Abby and her friends. They didn’t take nicely to my declaration of gayness or me interfering with them messing with Sarah.” **  
**

“Declaration of gayness,” Charlie snorts, “I’ve gotta use that one sometime.” Castiel rolls his eyes. **  
**

“Wow, you like to make enemies for yourself don’t you?” Garth asks. “Already on Abby’s bad side, and you’ve only been in town for two days.” **  
**

“More like I make rash decisions without considering the consequences, but it amounts to the same thing,” Castiel replies. With that said, they spend the rest of the lunch period debating very important topics, like which order the Star Wars movies should be watched in and who the best Harry Potter character is. Castiel can honestly say, that Sioux Falls isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it’d be, regardless of stereotypical bullies.

******

The class after lunch passes uneventfully and somewhat joyfully. It’s Art, and he’s an artist, so they go hand-in-hand. He hasn’t worked on anything since he found out he was moving. Well, that’s not exactly true. Luci and Meg had talked him into spray painting one of the walls on The Edge, as a memorial to their time together in New York. But besides that small bit of graffiti, he’s really slacked off on his artwork. It’s nice to be back doing it again.  **  
**

He has it with Charlie, so after an awkward introduction forced by the greying and sweet Mrs. Calloway, they spend the class working on their art projects and talking. Charlie’s drawing a scene from one of her LARPing experiences. It’s turning out pretty good. He had told her so, and she had reassured him that she was much more talented with computers than art. He’d take her word for it **  
**

The assignment is to depict something that was a profound experience for the artist or had great meaning to them. After some thought Castiel decides to draw him, Luci, and Meg hanging out on The Edge. It’s a project he tackles with eagerness, but leaves him aching for his old friends and his old home. He misses them more than he’s willing to admit, but doing the drawing also makes him feel closer to them. It’s really a bittersweet experience. It’s good though, to fall back into the routine of drawing. It’s nice to lose himself in the stroke of the pencil across paper, slowly bringing to life an image from his mind. Before he knows it the bells ringing, and he has to stop drawing. However, reluctantly. **  
**

Sarah meets him outside the door. Apparently they share History next period. He follows her to Mr. Jackson’s classroom, stopping by their respective lockers along the way. **  
**

They end up running into Kevin and Garth, who are headed in the opposite direction. “Hey,” Castiel says, smiling at his new friends. **  
**

“Dude, we just met your brother.” Garth supplies, a little overenthusiastically. **  
**

“He’s very...eccentric.” Kevin adds **  
**

Castiel laughs, “That’s one way to put it...Did it look like he has any friends yet?” He asks, worried slightly that his brother isn’t faring as well in the new school. **  
**

“Oh, yeah. He was hanging out with Sam Winchester and Jessica Moore when we saw him.” Kevin says. **  
**

“Wait, Winchester? As in Dean Winchester’s little brother.” Castiel asks, surprised. **  
**

Sarah interrupts, grabbing his arm, “The one and only, but as interesting as this is, we’re all going to be late, so let’s go.” She says, tugging him down the hallway. He waves at Garth and Kevin, who are rushing off in the other direction. **  
**

“See you!” They call. **  
**

Literally seconds after the tardy bell rings, they stumble into the classroom, drawing the eyes of everyone inside. To Castiel’s disappointment, that includes Abby and every single one of her friend’s: the ones from the coffee shop and this morning. They’re grouped together on the far side of the room. **  
**

The teacher smiles thinly at them, sarcastically drawling, “Nice of you to join us.” He motions with his hand, saying, “Ms. Moon, why don’t you take your seat.” Waving Castiel to the front of the classroom, where he reluctantly goes, he adds, “...and you are?” **  
**

“Castiel Novak, I just moved here.” he answers, casting a helpless look at Sarah, who shrugs and heads to her seat in the back of the room. **  
**

“Ahhh...yes. I actually had your brother Gabriel earlier. Quite the troublemaker that one.” Castiel flinches slightly, wondering what hole Gabriel may have already dug for himself, and if he was going to get pulled into it, as well. **  
**

“He can be rather...eccentric.” Castiel responds, stealing Kevin’s word to describe Gabriel. **  
**

“Why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?” Mr. Jackson asks. Castiel wants to scream. Out of all the classes for this to happen in again, it has to be this one. **  
**

“Uh...sure. I guess.” Castiel says, shifting on his feet slightly. When he realizes he did it, he forces himself to stand still. He’s not going to show weakness in front of people who have already targeted him. “Well, I’m from New York and…” He trails off, not really sure what to tell a room full of strangers. A whisper of, “Faggot,” poorly disguised as a cough, comes from Abby’s section of the room. Castiel glares in that direction, “And I’m an artist.” He declares, finishing where he trailed off. **  
**

Not waiting for the teacher’s permission, he stalks to the back of the classroom and sits down by Sarah, ignoring the degrading words coming from Abby’s friends. **  
**

“What a bunch of assholes,” he whispers to Sarah. **  
**

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” **  
**

Mr. Jackson claps his hands together, “I have an idea.” he announces. “Since this class is already ahead of the others, why don’t we spend the first part of today, introducing ourselves to Castiel. We’ll go down the rows. When it’s your turn please stand up, state your name, and something about yourself, just like Castiel did.” **  
**

The class perks up at this, happy to get out of work. He can already tell by the whispering between friends that they're all going to draw it out as long as possible, in hope of avoiding work altogether. **  
**

After the first ten minutes of student’s standing and rambling until Mr. Jackson forces them to sit back down, Castiel’s head is throbbing. The names and faces have all blurred together, and he’s not sure he could repeat one thing any of them have said. He’s pretty sure his brain has gone into overload, from all the new information today has brought forth. This goes on for another ten minutes until they finally reach someone Castiel is actually interested in hearing speak: Abby’s row of friends. **  
**

He’s curious to learn each of their names, and is determined to remember them. You know what they say: Know thy enemy. Abby stands first, red hair gleaming in the artificial lighting, a wad of gum being smacked between bright red lips. She smiles sweetly, looking between Castiel and the teacher as she talks, “My names Abby, and I’ve already met Castiel, here.” Her voice is sickly sweet, but it seems to have fooled Mr. Jackson, who doesn’t seem to notice how fake her display is. **  
**

“Why don’t you tell him something about yourself anyway?” Mr. Jackson suggests, smiling warmly at the girl. Castiel wants to throw up. **  
**

“Well, my mom’s deeply religious.” Abby says. “And she always says that sinners go to Hell, and I just want Castiel to know that God knows of his sins and he should ask for forgiveness before he ends up in Hell.” She says this all while looking Castiel dead in the eye. Her smile and voice sweet. Her eyes wicked. **  
**

Clearly this is another game. She’s walking a thin line between saying too little to get her message across and saying too much and drawing the teacher’s attention. She’s clearly an expert at walking this line because Castiel got the message loud and clear. He’d crossed a line early with his declaration and fight, and he’d better ask for forgiveness, or there would no doubt, be hell to pay. **  
**

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face, unwilling to back down to small minded bigots with some kind of power complex. Her smile hardens into a thin line. She clearly got his message, as well. Mr. Jackson is oblivious to this exchange, shifting uncomfortably, he manages a, “Well, that’s...uh...nice, Abby. Umm...who’s next?” **  
**

“I am.” A guy with a swelling nose and two black eyes forming stands up as Abby sits down. Yellow eyes. The one he punched this morning. Castiel admires his handiwork, halfway impressed with himself, halfway nauseous. He glares at Castiel as he speaks, “My name’s Marcus Azazel, but everyone calls me Azazel. I’m a big stickler for the an eye for an eye policy.” A wicked smirk crosses his face before he sits down. **  
**

Castiel forces himself not to react to the threat, as Mr. Jackson shifts uncomfortably where he’s leaning against his desk, obviously catching on to the fact that he’s missing something important. “Umm...next?” He says, voice less determined and sure than earlier. **  
**

The guy with white eyes stands up, “Christopher Alistair, everyone calls me Alistair, though--” He’s cut off by the classroom door opening. **  
**

“Mr. Jackson,” Missouri Moseley sticks her head in, “We need you in the office for a moment. You’re class will be fine on their own.” She says, a warm smile directed at the students. **  
**

Mr. Jackson glances warily at his students as if unsure, but seems to go with _Fuck it!,_ and walks out of the classroom, throwing, “Behave and keep going.” Over his shoulder. The door closes behind the two adults, leaving the room full of teenagers alone. **  
**

Everyone has picked up on the tension between their school’s infamous bullies and the new guy. The class watches avidly as Alistair continues, now without a teacher to monitor his words, “Watch your back, faggot.” He hisses, glaring at Castiel, eyes’ ice cold. Some of the students actually gasp at that. Castiel rolls his eyes, while internally wondering what the hell he got himself into. **  
**

Alistair sits down, Ruby standing up next. “I’m Ruby, which you already know. You seem to have pissed my friends off, but no offense to you guys,” She says, throwing the last part over shoulder at her friends, “I don’t really care. I just wanna spread the word that if you need a fix, I’m your girl. I’ve got most of everything, and if I don’t have it...well, I’m sure I could get it.” Castiel raises his eyebrows, surprised by this declaration. They practically disappear into his hairline, when she winks at him before, plopping down into her seat. **  
**

Her friends stare at her in disbelief. She just smiles at them, “What? I can’t throw away a business opportunity for your vendettas.” **  
**

Lilith shakes her head, standing up, “I’m Lilith, annnddd I’ll back them up.” She says indifferently before sitting down, but something in her eyes, makes Castiel wary of the girl. There’s just something off about her. He can’t quite put his finger on it. **  
**

The last one in their group of friends to stand, is the very tall, very broad shouldered one who threw quite a few slurs at Sarah earlier, but didn’t do much else. In a deep resounding voice he says, “Uriel,” and sits back down, looking infinitely bored with his life. The class continues with their introductions, finally reaching Sarah who’s the last one. **  
**

The class stares at her when she doesn’t stand up, “What?” She says, slightly defensive. “I’m not introducing myself to him. He already knows me.” Everyone shrugs, and turns away. Mr. Jackson doesn’t come back for another five or so minutes, and when he does, he jumps right into a lecture about the middle ages.  

Castiel’s uneasy for the rest of the class. He’s not sure why, but just being in the same room as them is putting him on edge. He knows they can’t try anything since the teacher is right there, but it’s not really helping to soothe him. It’s like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s well aware that this class will probably be hell for the rest of the year if he can’t ignore their presence, so he tries to. He really does...not that it works.

 

**TBC...**


End file.
